If It Weren't For Your Wings
by thatmultifandomfreak
Summary: Clint gets injured on a mission. Natasha helps him. What comes next wasn't planned. Title: lyrics from 'Falling' by Kate Rusby
1. Chapter 1

_He got injured on a mission... again._

_She helped him... again. _

"_Barton?!_" Natasha's voice was crackling, and all Clint could think about was how bad the signal over their comms was. A slight grin ghosted over his face as he glanced down at his leg, then swore under his breath. "I've been hit," he muttered raggedly into the comm, letting yet another arrow fly before hobbling into an alcove. She was more than capable of dealing with the last person. His bow lay ready on his lap, an arrow notched, as the redhead came into view, firing one last shot. Her eyes flickered to him and she rolled them, almost groaning. "_Typical,_" came her wry voice, and she hurried over, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Natasha's fingers moved deftly over the bleeding wound in his leg. "You've _got_ to stop getting hurt on these missions. You're not immortal." It wasn't just Clint who flinched at the coldness in her voice. It sounded callous to her own ears. Surely a girlfriend should be more concerned. Then again, this was Natasha's way of dealing with worry. Brusqueness masked fear; harsh words hid her true feelings. A quick breath in, a tug at the edges of the wound that was just _slightly_ rougher than was strictly necessary, and Natasha's emotions were back in check. "I don't want a dead boyfriend, Clint," she murmured quietly, her emerald eyes flickering up to catch his strikingly blue ones, although they were more stormy grey with pain. There was a long pause as she focused on his injuries, broken only by his ragged breathing, before his voice spoke up roughly. "How about a husband instead?"

Had Natasha misheard him? Her eyes searched his for any hint of a joke. He couldn't be serious. "You've lost a lot of blood, Clint. You're not thinking straight." Clint rolled his eyes, stopping her hands for a moment. "Just stop for one second, Natasha, and answer me. Will you marry me?" It wasn't the most romantic proposal, but to her, despite the blood, the bodies piled around them, the exhaustion, it was perfect.

_Neither of them meant it to happen._

_They saved each other..._

_Again._


	2. Chapter 2

Fiascos, tears, shouting. There were none of the typical wedding disasters when it came to Clint and Natasha. All they had to contend with was the groom being sent on a mission two days before the wedding. Natasha didn't complain, of course. Just sent him on his way with a kiss and a threat of painful death if he missed the wedding.

A few months passed. The day of the wedding came and went, and SHIELD gave up looking for Clint. Of course, Natasha acted strong. Didn't flinch when they told her he was presumed dead. No one saw her grieve. No one heard her crying at night, attacking a punchbag and wishing she'd taken his place.

One such night, when she'd succeeded in ripping the bag open with a knife, she sat in the sand, a fine trickle still leaking from the bag itself, weeping as if her heart was breaking.

"Miss Romanoff?" The AI's voice actually managed to be hushed and tactful. She glanced up at the ceiling, where it was now universally acknowledged that JARVIS lived. "What?" she muttered, wiping her face. She and JARVIS had an understanding that no one would _ever _see the footage of her crying. Not even Pepper.

"There is someone at the door." That was something she hadn't expected. "Who?" There was a slight pause, as if the AI was hesitating. "Perhaps it's better if you look for yourself, ma'am." Natasha rolled her eyes, but stood up, brushing the sand off herself and scrubbing her face. Chances were that Tony had slipped out without her noticing and was returning, drunk at 3am. It had happened before, but JARVIS normally let him in. Something was different.

"What?!" she snapped as she yanked the door open; then she froze. _No way._ There was no way that was who she thought it was. Clint grinned sheepishly, one hand trying to staunch the blood pouring from a wound in his shoulder. "Hey, Nat. Surprise."


	3. Chapter 3

There was a long silence, as Natasha stared at him, her eyes scanning every inch of his body. "You _bastard_!" she shrieked, flying at him and pounding his chest with her fists. The punches were hard at first, but as her sobs intensified, they got weaker. "You _died_! SHIELD told me you had! You promised you wouldn't leave me, damn you!" Clint's arms slipped around her waist, trying to support her, but the crying was wearing her out and she slid down his body, still weakly pounding him. "Bastard..." she choked out, as he went down with her. They ended up on the floor, her curled up in his lap, him rocking her gently. "Oh, Nat. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, my darling. I didn't mean to leave you," Clint whispered into her hair, gently rubbing her back.

"I know. Fury. I'm going to kill him," Natasha murmured, tears still streaming down her face. "I missed the wedding, then?" Clint's voice was pained and she glanced up at him. "Sure did. Everyone thought I was handling it so well." The archer raised an eyebrow, sensing a 'but'. "I wasn't, Clint. I haven't slept for more than three hours a night for months. I've cried whenever I'm alone. I'm a mess..." Natasha confessed, pressing her face into his chest.

Clint was quiet for a moment, and she glanced up again. To her horror, she saw a single tear roll down his face, followed by another, another, until he was sobbing silently. "Don't cry, please," she whispered, distraught, and reached up to wipe the tears off his cheeks with her thumb. "Oh god. Clint, I'm so sorry." Clint shook his head with a small weak laugh. "Don't be stupid, Nat. I should be the one apologising." Natasha leaned up and pressed her lips to his gently. The taste of blood made her pull away and she brushed her thumb over his lower lip, wiping the blood away.

Clint shifted underneath her, and her eyes went first to his shoulder, then scanned the rest of his body, cataloguing all of his injuries. "Come on," she said quietly. They were still sitting on the doorstep with the front door wide open."Inside. Let me deal with your shoulder." He stood up slowly, still supporting her, despite the face that he was swaying slightly and his eyes weren't quite focusing on her. _He must be completely exhausted._ She led him inside, closing the door as silently as possible behind the two of them.


	4. Chapter 4

"I tried to get back for the wedding," Clint murmured, with a sharp hiss as Natasha cleaned the wound. She nodded, carefully finishing up and finding a needle and thread in the first aid kit. The shock at seeing him alive after so long had disappeared slightly, and now she was just worried about him. "I know, baby. Don't worry about it." She tried for a smile. "Shit happens, right?" Clint's eyes were sad as he glanced at Natasha. "I still should have tried harder." He felt a cool finger on his lips as she shushed him. "Don't worry about it, Clint. I said it was fine."

"I missed the wedding, though," Clint protested, his voice muffled as she put her hand over his mouth. "Shut _up_," she whispered, rolling her eyes. He tried to argue, but she leaned forward and kissed him gently, just for a moment. "Sorry," he muttered as she moved away again.

Natasha smiled and shook her head. She couldn't be angry at him, not after he'd gone through hell to get back to her. "We'll get married when you're not bashed up and bleeding, 'kay?" She stood up, offering him a hand. "Now, you need to sleep, and so do I." Clint grinned, taking her hand and standing up as well. "Yes ma'am." He gave her a mock-salute and followed her as she tugged his hand gently. The cold metal of her engagement ring touched his hand and he linked his fingers with hers. "Bedtime for Robin Hood."


	5. Chapter 5

A few months passed, and the Avengers geared up yet again for the wedding. Tony and Thor had drinking contests to prepare for the amount of alcohol they would undoubtedly consume during the reception; Pepper became more of a Bridezilla than Natasha; Bruce and Betty hid in the lab with a bag of weed, whale music and yoga tapes. Peter, Shanta and Wade took up the vents as a favourite hiding place, and no one visited for the whole time. Clint and Natasha managed to keep their heads for almost the whole few months. There were some hairy moments, but no one died, for which everyone was eternally grateful.

The day of the wedding rolled around with a freezing wind and a blanket of snow, with more still falling. Natasha groaned and buried her head underneath the covers. "Clint. 'M cold. It's snowing," came her muffled voice as the groom was hopping around the room in his pyjamas, with one shoe on, trying to put the usual concealed weapon into its holster on his ankle. He managed it, and promptly fell face first onto the bed with a sigh. "You and me both, Nat. But, get up. Pepper will be in here in," he checked his watch, "2 minutes and 56 seconds and you will need to explain why you aren't out of bed to her."

That threat alone was enough to get Natasha to roll out of bed with a muttered Russian curse. She grabbed a hoodie of Clint's, pulling it on, and sauntered _over_ the bed to get to the bathroom, pausing to give him a sleepy kiss. "Might as well shower, then, in that 3 minutes."

"2 minutes, 7 seconds," Clint called after her, and grinned as she stuck her middle finger up at him before closing the door. The shower started running and he grabbed his clothes, dodging around Pepper as she slammed the door open, and fleeing the room. There was about a 30% chance of it becoming a murder scene and he wanted as few fingerprints of his own there as he could afford. "Good luck, Nat!" he called as he ran to the kitchen to make coffee.

Three hours of being pushed and pulled passed, until Pepper and Shanta were _finally_ satisfied with Natasha. Shanta uncovered Natasha's eyes, and the redhead saw herself in the mirror for the first time. That was unexpected.

The dark red curls had been swept back into an elegant chignon, a few tendrils artfully let loose to frame her face. The white dress skimmed over her body lightly, the veil melting into it at the back and joining the modest train. The only jewellery she wore was a thin silver chain around her neck, with a small silver heart on it, and a small diamond stud in each ear. Her eyes were dark, but the eyelashes sparked with light every time she blinked, and her lips were deep red; another contrast with her pale face.

Pepper stood back, cocking her head to the side, before racing out of the room with a sharp curse at an unsuspecting Bruce; the man had only left the lab to shower and change. He put his head round the door, adjusting his glasses nervously. "You look beautiful, Natasha," he said quietly, then disappeared as quietly as he'd arrived. Natasha smiled, a light flush appearing on her cheeks. Shanta looked smug as she curled the tendrils of escaping from Natasha's hairdo - which was her pride and joy - around her finger. "You do, Aunty Natasha." Natasha ducked her head, still blushing. "Thank you," she murmured softly.

Pepper reappeared, holding a tiara in one hand and a blue garter in the other. Shanta ran forwards and grabbed the tiara. "My job. You'll mess her hair up." Pepper rolled her eyes, laughing slightly, and nodded. She handed the garter to Natasha. "Put it on." The Russian blushed deeper, but slipped it on. "So we've got something old - Clint - something new - the dress-" Her words were cut off by a splutter and both Natasha and Shanta dissolved into laughter. Pepper stared at them for a few moments, then burst out laughing. "You two are mental, you know that?"


	6. Chapter 6

The music had been carefully selected by Betty and Shanta, while Pepper had "_helped_" Natasha to choose everything else; colour scheme, cake, dress. She had been worrying constantly about what Betty and Shanta had chosen. Not that she had needed to - the faint strains of Pachelbel's Canon filtered out to where Natasha was standing with Pepper and Betty. Shanta had gone in already, a basket of flower petals in her hand. Doubtless she was wreaking havoc on the guests with them. Inside the church, Clint was standing with Tony, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Dude, I will shove your bow tie down your throat if you don't stop moving," Tony muttered softly, and Clint immediately stopped. If there was one thing he'd discovered over the last few months, it was that Pepper and Tony were more stressed than he and Nat were about the wedding, and he had no doubt that the billionaire would make good on his threat.

The doors opened slowly and Natasha's breathing stuttered to a halt, then picked up, even quicker than before, terrified. Countless missions and murders had nothing on a wedding. "Let's move, Nat," hissed Pepper; she had done the timings perfectly, and she wasn't about to let _anything_ change them. The redhead nodded and started to walk, clutching the bouquet tightly until she felt the thorns of the roses pressing into her hands.

The archer's eyes lit up when he saw Natasha. "She looks _amazing_," he breathed, more to himself, and Tony nodded. His eyes were fixed on Pepper, walking behind Natasha with Betty; and Pepper's eyes were locked on Tony's. Natasha glowed under Clint's gaze. The music had shifted into the Wedding March already, and the fabric of the dress hid how much Natasha's legs were shaking as she finally got to Clint and stood next to him. At a word, they turned to face each other at the same time, her eyes sparkling beneath the veil. Clint bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes prickling unexpectedly at the sight of Natasha, and she gave him a reassuring smile, nerves dissipating the second she saw her archer. He mouthed a quick question at her - "are you alright?" - and she nodded quickly - "nervous." His eyes shone as he stared at her, transfixed by her.

"I promise to always protect and love you. I will love you through the dark times, because you are my light when all other lights are out. My everything, and I love every inch of you." Clint stopped speaking and the church was silent for a moment. A single tear slipped down Natasha's cheek. It was simple, beautiful, and she couldn't stop crying.

The ceremony was perfect. As cliché as it sounds, it was just right for the two of them. The vows were short; Pepper's schedule was bang on time. The reception was everything they thought it would be - Tony and Thor got completely wasted and ended up singing an Asgardian drinking song until Pepper screeched at them for standing on the table. Bruce filmed it all. Steve watched in mild horror. Clint and Natasha just spent the whole reception together, little fingers linked, laughing at their family.

Because that's what the Avengers are.

One big, messed up, wonderful family.


	7. Final Author's Note

So now we come to the end of the whole debacle. Thank you so much for putting up with my horrible writing, my unreliability, and the stupidly short chapters! I love you all, and I'm so glad I've finally written _something_ that wasn't too bad :') I seem to be doing final author's notes an awful lot, I hope you don't mind! It just gives me a chance to apologise for the writing and for everything else.


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